Seeing Flames
by MyOwnAntagonist
Summary: We all know Joanna is a bit stubborn...then again she's honorable, too. But when she's faced with her own death in order to hold up one of her highest ideals, what will she decide? Her existance, or her ethics? Oneshot.


Please note: this is a one-shot. ONE-SHOT. Please do not ask me if there will be another chapter, because there won't. This is a purely standalone story.

Just a little bit about this…it's just an idea that tossed itself around in my head during a time when I really, really needed to write something to vibe. Other than that...well, you read the summary on the selection page, did you not? Everything else about this story you need to know is in said summary.

As always, reviews are welcome. Flames are welcomed too, but only if they're constructive. Thanks!

Disclaimer: Perfect Dark and all affiliated characters, plots, such and such and such are property of Rare (and Nintendo, for this particular PD game). I am making no money off of this, nor am I making anything _else_ off of this. Please do not sue me, because I have nothing you could take anyways.

oOoOoOo

_-To Whomever Finds This-_

_This is not a suicide note. Those of you who know me realize that I am above such things. This is merely a goodbye. If you, the person who found this first, do not know who I am, please wait here until somebody asking for me comes around. Ask them who my greatest enemy is; if they respond _'Herself'_, or something to that effect, give them this envelope and its contents. _

_If you are, in fact, somebody who knows who I am, please distribute the contents of this envelope to the people whom they are addressed._

_I will not bother with explanations in this letter. I have already written the same reasons nearly a dozen times, and cannot bear to face them again. I will, however, bother with this: this is nobody's fault but my own. Know that I would not want anybody to believe they could have done something to stop me, as they could not have done such a thing in the first place. _

_If you are one who is insanely curious enough to see what I have written to people other than yourself, you will find that I am not as stupid as some have made me out to be. Each file is password encrypted several times over, each password different and pertaining to the person themselves. So unless you are a very dedicated and talented hacker (and even then, I do wish you wouldn't), do not even bother._

_Also enclosed are my personal journals beginning from the day I first met a good friend. It is a last wish of mine that these journals be given directly to Dr. Daniel Carrington, so that he may put them on display for all members to see and to learn from._

_Now, as the obligatory words of parting, I say this: Do not become what I became. Do not make the same mistakes I made. Do not let yourself become numb. It is the worst fate you can have._

_Goodbye._

_Joanna_

oOoOoOo

"Good morning, Jonathan. What can I do for you?" The man in question merely laid a thick envelope on the desk in front of his long time employer and friend. "What's this?"

"Open it," he said in reply.

"Jonathan, what-"

"Just open it. Please. Don't ask questions, because I don't have the answers." Daniel Carrington sighed, opening the plain legal envelope and empting the contents onto his desk. He sifted through small envelopes marked with names, finally setting them aside and opening a thrice-folded sheet of paper.

_-To Whomever Finds This-_

Daniel froze after reading the first few sentences, and raised his head to look at the younger man. Jonathan merely nodded his head once, and motioned for his employer to continue reading.

_Will not bother with explanations...personal journals...parting words..._

_Goodbye._

Goodbye?

"Jonathan, where did you find this?"

"Her apartment," the man answered dully. "She's been down and out recently, so I stopped by to take her out to breakfast before work. Maybe cheer her up a little bit, I don't know. She didn't answer when I knocked, so I used the Hide-A-Key. When I went in, I found it on the kitchen table." He pulled something out of his coat and set it on the letter in front of Daniel. "This was on top of it."

It was a blue-silver gun, the barrel inscribed with the letters _JD_.

Joanna's Falcon 2.

"That's her baby; she _never_ leaves it behind anywhere for _any_ reason. She's gone, Danny." Carrington stared at the weapon almost uncomprehendingly, and finally glanced up at Jonathan again.

"Did you find..." Even with the question left hanging, Jonathan knew what was being asked.

"No. I didn't. She wasn't there, not a damned sign of her anywhere."

"Then how do we know?" Jonathan shook his head, smiling slightly.

"She told me, in her letter. Mine wasn't _near_ as ambiguous as the general one you just read, and I'm assuming yours won't be either." Jonathan grabbed the pile of envelopes that Daniel had set aside, sorting through them and tossing the one marked "Daniel" back on the desk.

"I'm going to go pass these around," he said and exited the office without further parting. Carrington started at his envelope and tore the seal open slowly with his thumb. The only thing inside was a data pad, and the man set to work breaking through the passwords.

Nearly a half-hour later, Daniel cursed Joanna's paranoid nature and settled in to read what she had written him. The only words he saw, however were these:

_Print Me_.

Now slightly more upset with the woman and a bit baffled, Carrington pulled out the memory stick, inserted it into his printer, and pressed the print button. What printed out was a page and a half of Joanna's compact, feminine, right-slanted handwriting.

_Dear Daniel:_

_I do hope you're not too upset with me about the measures you had to take to read this. I am fully aware of curious gossipmongers, however, and did not intend to give them any more fuel than they'll have by the time this matter is settled._

_Before I set into the personal aspects of this letter, I'd like to settle a few things business wise. _

_  
First off, you'll not find my body. Don't even attempt to look for it, because it's not worth the hassle. _

_Second, I know you're well aware of my financial situation. By noon on July 1st, my last will and testament will have been received by my lawyer, and from there my estate doled out. I would like for you to make sure that it is followed exactly, as I do not trust lawyers as far as they can throw themselves. Velvet, as my last remaining kin, is to receiver ownership of all my material possessions unless otherwise stated. Also, she is to receive half of my monetary estate. _

_The other half is to go to the Carrington Institute, and I am hoping you will put the money to good use. Before you do anything with it, however, all employees are to get a bonus...make it a good one. They all deserve it. The rest you may do with as you see fit, provided it goes towards the Institute itself and not your villa. Consider this as my thank you for everything you, and the Institute have done for me, Daniel. Tell everyone that their bonuses are a parting gift from myself._

_Thirdly, my journals. Don't worry, there's nothing explicit in there. I was never one to keep a sex diary anyways...far to distasteful, don't you agree? They do, however, detail my thoughts and feelings about happenings at and concerning CI. They also detail what brought me to this point, and I feel my mistakes can be avoided by future generations (and the current ones, for that matter) of agents. I would like you to keep these available to all agents employees so that they may read and avoid my lines of thought. _

_I suppose you're dreadfully curious as to why you are reading this. Now that the business portion of this letter is concluded, I suppose I should tell you._

_The first time I killed a person, a little piece of me died. I know it sounds dramatic, but it's the truth. Every kill from then on was the same. I would feel a pang in my stomach and in my heart, guilt to know that I had just taken the life of a human being. Of course I rationalized it by saying that if I hadn't killed them, they would have killed me...and that was the truth. I accepted it as the truth, and everything was fine. _

_One day, a few months ago, you sent me on a mission. I don't remember exactly what it was, and I don't suppose it matters. All I remember was that I killed another man, and I didn't feel a thing. Not a pang of guilt, a twinge of regret. I didn't _care

_My greatest fear, Daniel, has always been myself...that I would turn into an uncaring monster. Don't get me wrong, I care about my friends and family and the general populace as a whole. But when I realized that I could kill a man without batting an eye, it scared me. The mere concept that I could be so far gone as to not give a damn about a human life downright _terrified_ me._

_I couldn't live with myself knowing that I had become a monster. I know there is no redemption for something like that. I also know that there was no way I could go on living with something like that on my conscience. _

_Don't worry, Daniel, I've no intention of causing myself any pain. It will be quick, easy, painless and silent- nobody will bear witness to my passing, so you needn't worry about my turning myself in to the enemy. I may be suicidal, but I still care about what happens to the Institute._

_The last thing I need to say is this: Thank you, Daniel, for everything. I know I may seem too mushy and sentimental, but if I don't say this now then you'll never know. You are like a father to me and I love you as one, Daniel, and that's more than I ever could have asked for from you. Just so you know, if I had ever gotten married, I'd have wanted you to walk me down the isle and give me away. I hope you live to a ripe old age, and I hope you die, in the words of a favorite novel of mine, _"beholden to nothing and no one"_. Have a good life, Daniel. Live so you die without regret._

_Love, _

_Joanna_

oOoOoOo

As Jonathan walked through the doors to the Weapon's Lab, he heard the familiar sound of gunshots echoing throughout the room and for a brief instant thought it was Joanna. A hopeful glance into the Firing Range, however, told him otherwise: it was her sister, Velvet.

"Why the long face, Johnny? Has somebody died?" Jonathan threw a dark look the way of the Weapon's Tech, and Foster swore.

"Shit, somebody _has_ died. Johnny, I swear I was only kidding-"

"Shut up, Foster." He glanced again towards Velvet. "How long is she gonna be in there?"

"Vel's been in the Range for nearly an hour now, and she doesn't usually go _over_. Do you need to talk to her? I can pull her out."

"No, it's alright. I can wait." _Give her a few more moments of peace before she finds out her sister's dead_, he thought. The men didn't have to wait long; Velvet was finished in the Range less than five minutes later. She walked through the sliding door, words already forming on her lips, stopping short when she saw the looks on their faces.

"John? Foster? What's wrong?" she asked, looking from one to the other and back. Wordlessly, Jonathan reached into his back pocket and pulled out the stack of envelopes, sorting through them until he came to the ones labeled "Foster" and "Velvet".

"Don't scorn the messenger when you break through the defenses." Vel looked at the label on hers and frowned.

"Jonathan, this is Jo's handwriting. What's going on? Where is she?"

"Just read them after you've cracked the codes. I've got to go." With that Jonathan walked out of the lab, leaving two very confused people behind. Foster shrugged and tore open his envelope, Velvet following suit a few seconds later. When codes had been cracked and papers printed, they each read the first few lines of their respective letter.

_Velvet- _

_My dear, darling little sister. I'm sorry I had to do this to you, I really am. I love you so much. If there's a conscience in the afterlife, you can be sure I'll spend most of it thinking about you._

Velvet froze, her eyes widening.

_I'll ask you to not cry for me, even though I know you will. Just keep in mind that my death was painless, and never forget me. _

The blonde woman cried out, a single sob filled with pain and sadness. Many more followed the first as she sank to the floor. Foster sank to the floor along with her, cradling her head against his chest and finishing his letter from that position. He threw it away from him after he read the last word, tears of his own now meandering down his face and into Velvet's hair.

oOoOoOo

Jonathan delivered seven more letters within that hour, one going to Christine and Susan, the Tech and Holo Lab techs respectively, Grimshaw from Hacker Central, and four of Jo's closest friends among the agents of the Carrington Institute.

He felt absolutely horrid about bearing such a message to friends of his own, but such was the burden of finding the packet first. When all was said and done, the man found himself walking towards the Roof Access. It took him a moment to realize why- the roof was unofficially Jo's little bit of CI. He stood for a little while taking in the view- no wonder she loved the roof so much, the sights around CI were beautiful.

Something nagged in the back of Jonathan's mind that there was something not quite right about the circumstances. Without really even knowing why, he pulled out his own letter and began rereading.

_Jonathan-_

_I'm not quite sure why, but I feel you'll be the one to find this packet first. I trust you put the Hide-A-Key back where it was, if you _were_ indeed first on scene. I don't want a random stranger coming across my unlocked door._

_Please don't think me a coward for what I've done, Jonathan. I've just done a favor to society, in a roundabout way. You know probably more than anybody else how much of a sucker I am for honor and integrity and such things, and therefore you also know that I wouldn't have committed this act without a perfectly honorable purpose full of integrity. _

_Whenever I killed someone, a little piece of me died. I'm sure you can relate, you've told me such a thing about yourself before. I'm not sure of my kill count, Jonathan, but I know that I'd killed enough people to not care anymore. There was a time I pulled that trigger, watched that man fall to the ground, and didn't feel a thing. Not a _thing_. Not shame, nor remorse, nor guilt nor anything of the sort. I suppose I should have been grateful that I didn't _enjoy_ it- but that was the next step._

_I don't scare easily, Jonathan, but that realization was enough to scare me out of my own skin. I'd been deliberating on this for months, so don't think it was just a random act brought on by a bought of depression. _

_I can't live with myself knowing that I could take a man's life without batting an eye. The mere concept is foreign to me, and we _all_ know my stance on murderers. If they aren't sorry for what they've done, they don't deserve to live. _

_Hence my suicide._

_You once asked me a question, Jonathan. I believe it was about what my own personal afterlife would be like if I was able to choose. I remember that I never answered you._

_It'd be an empty beach complete with crashing waves, salty air, a light breeze, palm trees with hammocks and drinks with those little umbrellas in them. It doesn't seem like me, does it? A regular tropical paradise. My own little slice of heaven, and I choose the ocean. I can't even figure it out myself as to why I'd want to spend a good deal of eternity there, but it seems to fit. To me, the sea has always meant redemption...whether or not I'll get that redemption remains to be seen, but the least I can do is (foolishly) hope for it._

_You're a good man, Jonathan. I have every belief that you won't attempt to move in on my sister in her time of grief, even though we both know you're not one for blondes (I believe your exact words were 'Blondes may be more fun, but redheads do it better _and_ smarter'). You'll make some woman very happy when you finally decide to settle down, Jonathan. A word of advice. While your smart-ass countenance may be absolutely adorable at times, it can be a real turn off. Keep the smart-assy-ness to yourself for the most part, and you'll land a girl in no time. _

_Of course, if you happen to find a girl who's a smart-ass of her own, by all means, give what you get. And no matter how pretty or smart or nice she may be, don't settle down with her unless she can give you a run for your money when it comes to verbal sparring. Trust me, you'll not be happy with a woman who can't come up with a comeback on the turn of a dime._

_Have a good life, Johnny. Don't become what I did, you're far too good for that. I hope you'll forgive me eventually. When you get to the afterlife, look me up and drop by...I'm sure I could find another hammock and a few more drinks somewhere. _

_Keep it real, Johnny. Live a little for me._

_Love,_

_Joanna_

_PS. When I see the sea again, will the sea have seen me? I've always wondered that. Ponder and let me know what you come up with when we meet on my beach._

Something wasn't right about that letter. Jonathan was convinced she was trying to tell him something; why else would she include the postscript, and switch to present tense halfway through? He read it again, this time reading between the lines. What was she trying to say?

"Come on, Jo. Talk to me, baby."

And then it clicked.

She was at the coast.

She might still have been alive.

Quick as a flash Jonathan was down from the roof and running towards his car in the parking garage. All he had to do was find the nicest stretch of deserted beach and he'd find her.

_Hold on, Jo. I'm coming._

oOoOoOo

Jonathan knew exactly the place his friend would be. They had talked about it a couple of years previous. It was a stretch of beautiful, deserted beach with white sand as far as you could see. She had said that beach was one of her favorite places to go when she was on her own time and feeling a bit blue, and Jonathan was pretty sure what she was feeling qualified as "blue".

Sure enough, Joanna was there. She was standing with her feet in the surf, gazing out at the vast expanse of water. Jonathan shut his car door and began the trek along the beach to reach her.

"You need to get your brakes checked. I heard them squeal all the way out here," she said as he came up alongside her.

"How'd you know it was me?"

"I know how your car sounds. The Flow Master was a nice touch, by the way." Jonathan was baffled. Here she was, about to kill herself, and she was talking about his _muffler_? As if reading his thoughts, she turned her head a bit to look at him and smirked.

"I know, I know, a bit too casual considering the current situation, right?"

"Damn straight." Jo sighed, running a hand through her auburn hair and turning to face him fully.

"Why are you here?"

"Why do you think I'm here? I'm going to talk you out of killing yourself." She smiled sadly.

"No you're not. I admire your confidence, but it's misplaced this time."

"Jo, why're you doing this? You're not a monster, contrary to what you may think. It's a perfectly natural response to shut down that emotional center when you're working."

"I _told_ you-"

"You told me you couldn't live with yourself because you thought the next step was to _enjoy_ the killing. But it's not, Jo! Not with you. You care too much to enjoy taking a life!"

"I thought I cared too much to stop feeling guilt, and look where that got me," she muttered, turning back to face the ocean. "No, Jonathan, it's better this way. I know what I'm doing, and I think you can understand why." Jonathan gave a frustrated sigh. The woman could be damned infuriating on her best days.

"Just out of morbid curiosity, how were you planning on going about this?"

"I'm going to OD, sail that boat over there out a ways, and set a timed mine for four hours. That should ensure that I am well away from any sort of civilization when the mine goes off, not to mention that I'll be long gone when the boat blows up."

Jonathan marveled at the way she could discuss such a subject so casually, almost as if they were discussing what movie time to attend. For as long as he had known her, Jo had always done that, and it had always unnerved him.

"There's nothing I can do to convince you not to do this, is there," he asked after a time of standing in silence.

"No." Her tone was excruciatingly final. Jonathan knew that if he tried to knock her out and drag her back to the Institute that she'd just bide her time until she could get away unnoticed again...or he'd end up tied to a post somewhere in women's underwear. Probably both, knowing Jo's twisted, sick sense of humor.

"Jo?"

"Hmm?" Jonathan paused. Sure, this was probably the only thing that would keep her from offing herself, and it _was _true...but did he really want to-

Scratch that. Yes, he did. If it kept her alive, he was more than willing to suffer a bit of emotional embarrassment.

"I love you." She turned her head to consider him, saw the truth in his eyes and looked away.

"As much as I appreciate the gesture, Jonathan, it's not going to change anything."

"Jo, look at me." She did, and was swept up in a sweet, chaste kiss a second later. When Jonathan pulled away, Joanna smiled.

"I guess this'd be a good time to say I love you too." Jonathan blinked, attempting to comprehend what she had just said. When the words "I love you too" registered in his brain, he engulfed the woman in a strong hug, which she returned tenfold.

"Does this mean you'll consider staying?" Jo sighed, and silence reigned for a few seconds that seemed like an eternity to the man.

"You know I can't," she whispered.

"I know you can, but you choose not to."

"It's the same thing, Jonathan. I choose not to because I know I can't." She pulled out of his hug and reached up to kiss him, a little less chastely this time. He allowed himself to drink up the sensations, ignoring all else until against his lips she whispered, "I wasn't lying...I _do_ love you. Remember that." Jonathan felt her fingers travel along the junction of his neck and shoulder. He wasn't fast enough to escape her hold before she applied pressure to the pressure point there, and collapsed in a heap on the ground.

The last thing he saw before passing out was Jo's face- distraught, regretful, guilty, loving, and still beautiful.

oOoOoOo

Jonathan awoke nearly five hours later. He sat up, and seeing something flutter to the ground from his chest picked it up. It was a folded piece of paper addressed to him.

_I'm sorry_. _Please forgive me, and don't forget me._

The man stood up, clutching the note in his fist, and gazed out at the endless sea. He saw flames.

_The End_.

oOoOoOo

In case anybody is interested, the quote Joanna uses in her letter to Dr. Carrington, "beholden to nothing and no one", is taken from Harper Lee's To Kill A Mockingbird, a great novel if you can understand it. I highly suggest reading it.


End file.
